Read Online To Tempt the Devil (A Novel of Lord Hawkesbury's Players) by C.J. Archer - Free Book Online Page B

time for Mr. Gripp to leave,” he said.
    Gripp cleared his throat and nodded as he backed through the tiring house curtain and out onto the stage beyond. “Ah, yes, well, good day to you, sir.” He doffed his hat without taking his eyes off Rafe.
    “Good riddance,” Roger shouted after him.
    No one else spoke. The rest of the troupe, including Lizzy, watched Rafe. She didn’t know what she expected him to do or say but she did expect some sort of reaction.
    But there was no reaction of any kind in those deep, black eyes. Rafe simply stared at Roger, who took no notice of him.
    “Where’s that devil’s costume?” he roared. “Elizabeth! I need it now!” He snapped his fingers at Lizzy.
    In a move so fast it was a blur, Rafe caught Roger’s fingers, silencing the snaps. “Do not shout at her,” he said evenly.“The costume is upstairs. Go and get it yourself.” There was no menace in his voice. It wasn’t necessary. He had a way of sounding threatening without so much as a change of tone.
    Roger’s face drained and he made a squeaking noise. “I…I will. I mean I was. Just needed to check with her first.”
    Rafe let go and Roger tucked his hand under his armpit. He scampered up the stairs without looking back.
    The rest of the troupe exchanged glances then dispersed to prepare for the performance. More than one kept a wary eye on Rafe. Antony winked at Lizzy then went upstairs in search of his costume.
    Lizzy picked up the prompt book and hugged the bound pages to her chest. She was all too aware of Rafe nearby, watching her. She didn’t need to see him to know; she could feel his gaze on her. Why didn’t he say something? Why didn’t he leave?
    Did she want him to leave?
    “Lizzy—”
    “You don’t have to stay,” she said. “I’m sure you would rather be anywhere else but here after…”
    “No.”
    “I’m sorry about Roger.”
    “Don’t be. It doesn’t concern me. I’m worried about you. This fight between Style and Gripp looks like it might turn nastier.”
    “Don’t concern yourself. It’ll probably all blow over.” She bit her lip. She didn’t believe that at all. If Gripp had banned The Spoils of War for no apparent reason, what would he do next? She hazarded a glance at Rafe, just a brief one, and saw that he was indeed still watching her. “I’m sorry Roger implied what he did about you.”
    He laughed softly. “Worse things have been implied about me. Some of them were even true.”
    Like what Roger said—Rafe was capable of killing.
    “Lizzy? What’s wrong?” He frowned and stepped toward her.
    She moved quickly away. Her skirts brushed against a stool, pushing it over, and she bent to pick it up. It gave her an excuse to not look at him, to not see the confusion in those endlessly dark eyes.
    “I better go,” he muttered. “Do you remember why I came—about my friend who’s a little mad?” She nodded. “He’s tall, like me, with longish brown hair. Don’t let him in.”
    By the time she’d digested that order and looked up, he was gone.

    The Marshalsea prison was crowded, damp, and stank worse than a pair of old boots. Hughe’s money had bought James a clean cell with only three others and a sackful of food. There was no more coin left.
    James sat in the corner on a pallet, his forehead resting on his drawn-up knees. He looked up long enough to see the warden let Rafe in, then lowered his head with a groan.
    “Unless you’ve paid off my debts you can go away,” he said.
    “That’s no way to greet your only kin.” Rafe dropped the sack at his brother’s feet and sat down. “I brought bread, cheese, and apples. Don’t eat them all at once.” He eyed James’s cell mates, who all watched him back, one openly and two surreptitiously. None looked to be starving but the big one, the one who didn’t hide his interest, had a cockiness about him that could be dangerous if he decided to prove his superior strength. “There’ll be enough to share around